The Art of a Full Recovery
by pearlydewdrop
Summary: Time moved slowly without her, he listened to the clock on the mantel with it's incessant 'tick-tock'-ing that filled the otherwise silent room. He sat dutifully by her side, holding her hand...waiting and watching. (It's not as heart breaking as you'd think...I promise) Lady Sybil Lives AU!
1. Waking Up

**The Art of a Full Recovery. **

Time moved slowly without her, he listened to the clock on the mantel with it's incessant 'tick-tock'-ing that filled the otherwise silent room. He sat dutifully by her side, holding her hand...waiting and watching.

"_Please, love",_ Tom had found himself whispering more than once. "_Please don't leave me." _

After about three days, Dr Clarkson had informed them all that Sybil was all but out of immediate danger and would only need to be given some time to wake up from her last seizure.

The Crawleys collectively released their first breath of relief in days.

It would be a waiting game, Dr Clarkson had informed them, but with luck she would make a full and unconditional recovery .

Smiling humourlessly, Tom remembered how he had once told Sybil that he would_ wait forever_ for her...and wait for his darling wife he knew he always would.

Tom sat with Sybil, only moving from his place to look after and entertain their beautiful baby daughter.

He listened to his wife breathe, a comforting sound that assured him that he hadn't lost her.

In and out, up and down...

Sybil's chest rose and fell, a constant reminder to her husband that their little girl would not grow up without her mother.

'_Oh Thank God!'_

A part of Tom thought that he was dreaming the first time he saw Sybil's eyelashes flicker open.

Relief, pure and unadulterated, welled up inside of him.

Nothing in the world could have stopped the tears of happiness that instantly sprung to his eyes. Nothing in the world could have prevented Tom from sobbing into his wife's hand as she smiled weakly up at him, clearly having been through hell and back to remain with her family.

Her eyes were red and tired but were still as blue and as filled with love as he had ever seen them.

"T—Tttom", she whispered, her voice cracking from a lack of use.

Sybil's hand was warm beneath his wet and tear stained face, Tom could feel her pulse thrum against his jaw.

Thumping, beating, sounding, pounding ...alive, so alive.

He held on tightly to her hand, burying his face in her fingers.

Tom could feel her other hand move across the blankets and come to rest in his hair. It was as though Sybil needed to cling to some part of him as much as he had to her.

She was his life line...and he was her's.

Without saying a word their silent actions conveyed their mutual terror upon realising how far they had come to the end...the end of all things.

Sybil and Tom had almost been lost to one another forever...it was a startlingly truth that they both knew.

For years to come, the couple would be haunted by how close they had come to being made the victim's of life's most cruel form of robbery.

It was only by some miracle, some fortunate luck of the draw, that their family was allowed to endure. It was a miracle that they would both forever be grateful for.

_"Oh Sybil...Oh my darlin'!"_

* * *

**Author's Note: Yeah, do you know when you write something, decide not to publish it and then find it weeks later...yeah this is one of those stories. ****Originally it was meant as a second chapter to my 'Her Two Anchors' oneshot but i decided against publishing them together. Does this still make sense a standalone? Let me know what you guys think!**

**Either way, I truly hope you didn't hate it. **

**Pearlydewdrop xx **


	2. Not Made of Glass

**Not Made of Glass. **

"For goodness sake, Tom", Sybil chided gently, opening her arms in an offered embrace.

Honestly, she just couldn't see what his problem was. Their bed at Downton was huge! It was far larger than the one they'd shared just weeks earlier in Dublin when she'd been twice her current size, heavily pregnant with Sybbie. "I've given birth to a child...I'm not made from glass".

Tom pushed his uncombed hair back from his forehead, attempting to rearrange his tired features so as to alleviate Sybil's concern, the reason why she was so adamant he get into their bed and take a nap.

He sighed to himself, it was so like her to be preoccupied with the welfare of others when she, herself, had been so unwell. "Sybil, I'm perfectly fi—", Tom began, but was duly cut off by his wife's quintessential Crawley glare.

"Don't be silly, darling. I know very well that you haven't slept in two days."

Frowning defensively, Tom crossed his arms over his chest. "How on earth do you know that?"

"Because I know you", Sybil replied sternly but not without affection. "And I know that no one in this house would have been able to get you to leave me."

Tom sighed deeply, shaking his head. Yes, he was tired...that was something he could and would admit to, but not so tired that he would risk hurting his darling wife; one of the two most precious people in the world to him alongside their baby daughter. "I'll be grand, love."

"You really are the most ridiculously stubborn man I know."

"Yeah, well I'll take that as a compliment."

Pursing her lips together, Sybil patted the empty place beside her on the mattress. She had seen the way her husband had looked at ever since she had first woken up, relieved—yes...but also constantly worried to the point of being positively terrified.

"Tom, I promise that you're not going to hurt me. Yes, Sybbie and I have been through quite a lot over the past few days but we're going to be fine", Sybil said, reaching out and squeezing Tom's hand. "I'm not going anywhere."

Quietly, Tom took in the sight of his wife—astounded at how accurately she had hit the nail on the head, how well she knew him inside out. He nodded in response, another chip of the anxiety that had settled heavily in the pit of his stomach over the last week falling away.

"You'd better not"

Sybil laughed softly at his deadpanned response, pulling back the covers next to her as Tom, apparently having made up his mind, approached her carefully, hesitantly. Taking his arms, she guided them around her, with a cheeky grin that was almost a glimpse of her usual self. "I want my husband in my bed with his arms around me and I'm quite well enough for that, thank you."

At that Tom couldn't help but smile in response, burying his nose gently in her dark curls. Her warm fingers wrapped around his as they curled closer to one another, hesitantly as though they were doing so for the first time all over again. "Well who am I to disappoint, milady", he teased softly, feeling more light-hearted than he had in days.


End file.
